


The Canary's Secret

by petitmelon



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Choking, Exhibitionism, F/M, Light Bondage, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:18:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3440096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petitmelon/pseuds/petitmelon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fifteen years ago, Vegeta took Bulma in as a slave. Every day she plans on killing him. And yet, when it comes to make the final move, she finds herself unable to follow through. Does she have feelings for Vegeta after all? Or is she just confused by years of enslavement? (A dark romance that turns to sweet by the end. Lemon in every chapter.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Welcome home, my Lord.”

Her tone held utmost respect and devotion, but Vegeta had known her long enough to know when she put on a show. He plucked her from a clan he conquered on a whim when she was a small child. On that night, covered in the blood of her parents, she met his eyes with hatred, not fear. It would have been a shame to extinguish a flame like that.

And now, fifteen years later, her beauty earned her a spot as his first woman.

As his first, he was keen to show her off. She wore only a sliver of sheer fabric that draped over her shoulder and covered only one breast. It wrapped around her tiny waist, emphasizing her hourglass figure, and trailed behind her in a long train. She wore nothing to cover her mound. It was a taunt to him, a dare to come and take her as he pleased. He only indulged himself occasionally with her. She was something to be savored.

The inches of skin not covered with the scarf were littered with jewels. Her long hair came down to her knees and was the color of the ocean, a rarity he’d never seen anywhere else in the world. When she stood at his side, he could see the looks of envy among his men. And he could tell she knew her effect on men. She stood proudly over them and mocked their desire for her. She had no fear of telling him what she thought. She never once complained about his chosen attire for her. Her only concern lay in the jewels she wore.

He knew she still hated him. When she looked him in the eye as they coupled, he could see the hatred of the past fifteen years brewing, same as that one night, not one iota less. That beautiful flame still burned bright.

He unsnapped his armor. Normally this would be the job of his slave, but with her, he preferred to exert his dominance. Letting her do something like that would give her power over him. He set his armor on the stand and stripped naked.

Her lips twisted to a teasing smile. “You seem happy to be home.”

“Get over here,” he ordered.

Her anklets clanged with each step. She stopped in front of him, staring into his eyes with that mocking expression she seemed to develop as of late. In the months he was away, her body returned to normal. He trailed his fingertips down her arm and grasped the multitudes of jeweled bangles at her wrist, sliding them off her hands. They fell to the floor in a loud clang.

“You know I hate you wearing jewelry on my return.”

“Then stop buying them for me.”

He grabbed a necklace and pulled, snapping the tiny chain, sending the rich sapphires to the floor. She kept a calm expression on her face. She seemed to know him exerts at dominance were mere words at this point. He both adored and despised that aspect of her. He grabbed her chin and squeezed. “Do you mock me?”

“I only speak the truth. If you can’t handle it, then you are the weak one.”

Hearing the word weak set off a fire inside him. He grabbed the belted chains around her waist and snapped them in two.

“Stop ruining my things.”

“They are mine, just as you are mine. Have you forgotten that I am your King?” She glared. He fought a smile. _There it is._ His erection ached seeing her fierce expression. He tangled his hand in her hair and held her face up to him. “Who am I?”

“You are my sun and moon, my only master in this world.” The words came out flat and rehearsed. He tugged on her hair. She flinched.

“Say it again.”

“You are my sun and moon,” she grunted, hissing as he pulled on her hair with each word.

“And?”

“My only master in this world.”

He relaxed his hold and kissed her. “If you’d say it correctly the first time, I wouldn’t have to do this.” He took her lips again, kissing her without regard to a tender reunion. He grabbed the loose breast and squeezed. She had her hands on his chest, trying to push him away. He knew this game she played. She tried to push him away, but she kissed him with equal vigor.

He placed his fingers at her entrance and pushed them inside easily. Her body visually stiffened, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of a moan. She rarely did. “You missed me,” he stated. He took his fingers out and licked them. She was the only woman he deemed worthy of tasting. That harsh sweetness on his tongue was exquisite under her angry gaze.

“I prayed every day you died in battle.”

He laughed and put his arm around her waist, drawing her close. “You lie.”

She spit on his chest.

He put his hand around her slender neck and squeezed. “You should know better than to disrespect me like that.” She kept that fierce gaze on him. His cocked throbbed. He pushed her to the floor. “I will not ask.”

She kept her eyes on him and crawled to him. He licked his lips as she took him in her hand. She squeezed it roughly, obviously attempting to cause him pain, and on any other day he would have slapped her for the indiscretion. Being gone for months weakened him to her touch. She opened her mouth and took his head inside, swirling her tongue over him the way he liked. He closed his eyes and let her pleasure him.

She bobbed her head over him, sliding him down the tight recess of her throat. Her hands wiggled between his legs and rubbed his prostate. He felt the pressure of an orgasm coming, until a sharp pain hit him. He kicked her chest. “I told you not to use your teeth!”

She coughed and spit out the remnants of her saliva. When she looked at him, he knew she did it on purpose. Her angry eyes had a hint of satisfaction to them.

He reached behind him and pulled off the heavy glove of his armor. Her eyes widened slightly. A trickle of satisfaction ran through him. She hadn’t received a punishment in a long time. She grew too cocky for his tastes. She was his slave, in the end, even if she was the first, even if he gave into her whims like an old lover.

He grabbed her hair and dragged her to the bed. “Bend over.”

She obeyed without a complaint, probably to lessen her punishment. Unfortunately for her, she needed this lesson. He pushed aside the sheer fabric, baring her heart shaped ass. He slapped his hand against her. She didn’t make a sound. Her ass cheek was pink where he struck her. He frowned. He seemed to be holding back. He swung his hand with all his strength. The smack of the heavy leather hitting her skin echoed in their room. She grunted.

“You’ve been a bad girl today,” he said before slapping her other cheek. “Being the first does not give you rights to disobey me.” When his hand hit the tender red flesh, she whimpered. The beautifully erotic sound emboldened his cock. He could see her tender lips glisten with her arousal.

He spanked her again. She cried out. He hit her in rapid succession, delighting in each whimper of pain she let out. When both cheeks were a crimson red, he took off the glove, throwing it in front of her face. “Turn around.”

She lay on her back, blue hair strewn all around her. Her flushed face held no marks of tears. She never cried, no matter how much pain he caused her. He positioned himself at her entrance and pushed in. He moaned as her tight folds squeezed him. He leaned over her and sucked on her nipple as he fucked her.

He felt her hands around his neck. He looked up at her, at those blue eyes fierce with anger. She squeezed. He smiled as his body became aflame with pleasure. As his sight became blurry, he pulled her hands off his neck. She fought his hold, trying to bring her hands back to him. She wasn’t nearly as strong as him. She knew her efforts were futile. But her continued attempts aroused him further. He leaned over her and slammed his hips against her.

When he kissed her, he felt her tongue inside his mouth. He shuddered as she twisted her tongue around his. They broke apart, panting, a single sliver of saliva uniting their open mouths. He grunted and pushed her legs up to her chest. The edges of her ass were still a bright red. He pushed himself inside her slowly, enjoying watching him go in and out of her. His cock was slick with her juices. He put her legs on his shoulders and entered her achingly slow. He could feel each tremble of her body as he entered.

Despite her disobedience, it had been months since he had her. Their reunion should not be marred by her punishment. He parted the rich hair on her mound and squeezed her clit between his fingers. Her back arched as a high pitched cry left her. He smiled and continued taunting her by pinching her nub and slowly fucking her.

“Listen to yourself.” He laughed as her face contorted to something between rage and pleasure. Such a beautiful expression he rarely was privileged to see. “You like it, don’t you? The huge cock of your King inside you?”

“I hate you!”

Her words were accented with the squeals of her pleasure. He could tell by her quick breaths she was close. A rush of excitement ignited him. He pulled back his hand and slapped her. The moment his hand hit her cheek, he felt her tighten around him.

“Vegeta!” she screamed.

He grunted and continued pounding her. She screamed his name over and over with each thrust. In that moment, she truly belonged to him. His howl of pleasure joined hers as he spilled his seed inside her.

He collapsed on her. The only sounds between them were their heavy breaths.


	2. The Canary's Ballad

Bulma wiped the sweat from her brow. Her ass stung. Her cunt ached. And her body was crushed by the muscular brute of a man named Vegeta, making it difficult to breathe. He snored lightly on her chest, arms wrapped around her, legs tangled with hers. If anyone were to walk in on them, they could be mistaken for lovers. Perhaps they were.

She ran her fingers through his spiky hair and lightly traced the curve of his widow’s peak. In sleep, his face lost its harshness. The angry leader of the Saiyans disappeared and he was a normal man. She traced the ridges of muscles at his shoulder. He was power personified. A dangerous beast of the battlefield that struck fear into the hearts of all his opponents.

Despite his violent preferences during sex, the first time he took her, he was gentle and loving. He even lied to her, telling her it was his first time, though she knew it was not. The other girls told her how he used them as practice for her. They were divided between outright jealousy and brown nosers hoping it would grant them an easier time. It was futile in the end. She was the only one awarded special treatment. If the others dared to defy him the way she did they would be killed.

She was not the only one he was violent with, but she knew she was the only one that enjoyed it. Somewhere along the lines his perversions became her own. She loved him dominating her and taking her within an inch of her sanity before crushing it in a sweet sensation.

Yet, in the back of her mind, she knew she had to kill him. During sex, it would be easy to choke him to death. He liked to be choked as he fucked her, so it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. Just hold onto him longer than usual, let him lose his last breaths under the guise of pleasure.

As he slept on her breast, she could slip a knife from under his pillow and slit his throat. He would never know what happened as he bled to death. Or perhaps she could empty a poison into his lips, hidden in a secret ring on her finger. But she never did.

No matter how many days passed with her sleeping in his bed, fantasizing about killing him, she never worked up the nerve to do it. His sleeping face haunted her. For all his anger, in his sleep he held her, and only her. If the other girls shared his bed, he would send them out the moment after he finished. She was the only one that saw him at his most vulnerable.

The jewels were her currency. In the event she actually killed him and escaped, she needed the jewels to trade for essentials. She wore as many as she could in preparation for that day. He thought it was her vanity. The fool. He gifted her jewels all the time, not knowing that she collected them for his eventual demise.

But just as she would cross the line to end his life, something stopped her. Their eyes met and she felt pity for him. Or she remembered how difficult it would be to disappear in this land, where everyone knew her as his first woman.

He had been of age for several years and refused to take on a bride. Rumors named her as the cause. She knew the real reason, of course. He had a difficult time being gentle, both in and out of bed. No nobles wanted to send their daughter to a bloodthirsty warrior prince whose sexual perversions mixed with violence, no matter how powerful and rich he became through his conquests.

As sad as it may seem, his first woman, head of all his concubines, slave of over fifteen years, may be the only one compatible with him. And she wanted him dead.

She scratched his back, admiring the sleek way it tapered to his hips. His skin was littered with scars from battle. He claimed to be a god of war. He may be. She’d seen him recover from wounds that would kill a normal man. Even now, as he approached mid-adulthood, his body seemed just as healthy and strong as a man in his teens. He didn’t seem to age at all. Aside from his scars he looked every bit the same as he did when she first laid eyes upon him.

For several years of her life, especially in the few after he plucked her from her hell, she imagined him a god. She prayed every night for his death. When one god wouldn’t oblige, she moved onto the next. After exhausting all her options she wondered if his claim was true.

She still didn’t know for certain. To hear his men speak of him on the battlefield, he may as well be a god.

Her back ached. She shifted her weight. He opened his eyes and gave her a drowsy smile, lightly kissing the curve of her breast. His lips followed her skin until he reached her nipple. He sucked on it. She felt him become hard as he did.

Certain things became necessary in this world to survive. Rather than open herself up to another session of rough sex her body couldn’t handle, she took dominance over him. He liked it some days. If the gods were merciful today would be one of them.

She pushed him onto his back and crawled down the bed, taking him into her mouth. It took a lot of practice to be able to get him down her throat without gagging. When erect, his penis was about as long and thick as her forearm. Most of the girls couldn’t handle him. They came back to their quarters bloody and torn.

She enjoyed the way he stretched her throat and the way she made him moan when she took him down. Those were her small victories in this place, her moments of power. As she continued pushing him down her throat, she felt him become harder. She cupped his taut balls in her hand and gave them a light squeeze as she bobbed up and down. His breaths came out ragged. She wrapped her hands around him and began stroking him as she sucked on his head.

He tugged her hair, pulling her off him. _So much for getting off easy._ She flipped her body around and pushed on his chest, shoving him back down on the bed. He snarled. She returned his glare and put all of her body weight on his shoulders.

It was of little use. He easily flipped her onto her back. She scratched at his chest and tried to flip them back over. She felt him at her entrance. She thrust her head up and hit his with hers. He loosened his grip for a second. Using all her body weight, she pushed and rolled her body on top of his. She grabbed his neck and squeezed until her knuckles were white.

He stared at her with a smile. She felt his erection beside her leg. Carefully rotating her hips, she managed to get him at her entrance. She shook his neck as she lowered herself on him. It stung, but it didn’t hurt like it would have if she let him take control.

His moans came out as thin rasps. She kept her eyes locked onto his. Those evil eyes, always glaring or scowling at things. He reached for her hips and commanded her to bounce steadily on him. She tightened her grip around his neck. Her arms shook from the strain. She watched as his focus shifted away from her. _Just a little more, and the world will be free of his evil._

He opened his mouth in a silent roar. She felt heat spread inside her. He reached up and caressed her cheek. She released him. He wrapped a lock of hair around his finger and pulled her face down to his in a kiss.

Guilt stabbed her heart as she relished his tender kisses. The days he indulged her with sweetness were days she understood him as truly happy. He couldn’t say things with words. He always held back his feelings. But she knew him. She was by his side for years and she shared a bed with him for almost as long. Through her hatred for him she came to know each and every bit of him. She had to know how to hurt him most in order to make him suffer, but in doing that she forged a bond with him she struggled to escape. Perhaps in the end she was more twisted than he was.

A knock on the door interrupted them. He gently pushed her aside. She rolled off the bed and walked to the door. “Kakarot,” she greeted with a smile.

He cringed upon seeing her.

_He must have left a mark after slapping me last night._

“The seer is here.”

_Oh, it must be a full moon again. No wonder Vegeta is acting weird._ She nodded and bowed. “I will tell my Lord. Do you have any other business?”

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

She nodded. He frowned, but turned around and left. She shut the door softly behind her. Kakarot was as kind as Vegeta was cruel. It was hard to believe he was his right-hand man. Even after seeing them together for years she couldn’t figure out how the two were friends. Maybe he was like her, and saw the Vegeta that lurked beyond the darkness.

She walked back to Vegeta, who lounged on the bed. “The seer is here.”

“I hate that old hag,” he muttered.

She cracked a smile. The seer didn’t seem too fond of him either. She enjoyed the days the seer came. Other than herself, she was the only one that dared to talk down to Vegeta. “Do you wish to bathe?” she asked.

He scoffed. “I’m not here to impress her. Get my robe.”

She walked to his closet and pulled out a silken robe. Vegeta got off the bed and stood. She hooked his arm through one sleeve. She took the other side and walked around him then took the sash and began looping it around his midsection. She tied it into a single looped bow.

On his bared chest, she saw a fresh pink spot. She reached up and touched it. “You have a new scar.”

“An arrow hit me on the last battle.” He took her hand in his.

She sucked in a breath and looked up at him, expecting a punishment for speaking out of turn.

He gave her a half smile and moved her hand away. “It will take more than an arrow to kill me.”

“So it seems.” She couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice.

He laughed. “If I die, it will be by your hands.”

Her heart skipped a beat. _Does he suspect something?_

He walked over to a table and picked up a box. “Come here.”

She obediently followed. “Yes?”

He opened the box and pulled out a golden necklace smattered with precious stones. She closed the gap between him and he put it on her. She held it up to the window and watched the light dance off the stones. “Not as nice as the one you destroyed last night.”

He laughed. “I have a new present for you.” He lifted up a weird looking metallic item. It had a large cone shaped bulb on the end and had several golden chains embellished with jewels hanging off the other.

She arched an eyebrow. “What is that?”

“Those savages wore it when we conquered them.”

“Savages wore them, and you’re giving it to me?”

“You are a slave, therefore you are a savage.”

_He murders thousands in the name of his ideals and he has the nerve to call me savage._ She had a feeling she would regret voicing her next thought. “How do I wear it?”

His grin had an evil glint to it. He tapped her thighs. “Spread them.”

“No.”

He glared. “Did you not learn your lesson last night?”

“I refuse to wear that.”

In a smooth motion, he lifted her up by her midsection and shoved the offending item inside. She yelped as the cold metal seared her insides. He smirked. “Don’t like it?”

She punched his shoulder. “At least warm it up before you stick that in me!”

His laughter filled the room. “Walk.”

The cold metal felt uncomfortable inside and did little to soothe her soreness. She struggled to keep a normal gait. The strings tangled in her legs. She turned and crossed her arms. “I hate it. Take it out.”

“Wear it all day and I’ll give you a reward.”

“I have more than I could ever desire. Don’t you think this is suited to someone else, perhaps?”

He scoffed. “You alone are the one I gift riches to.”

A fact she was painfully aware of.

He ran his fingertip around her nipple and pinched it until it became erect. “I hoped to find another that could satisfy me. It seems you’re the only one.”

Another fact she was painfully aware of. “The seer waits,” she reminded him. The sooner she could be alone the sooner she could take the offending jewelry out.

“Yes, the hag. Let’s see what nonsense she’ll spew this month.”

Being the first, she was allowed by his side. Should he ever take on a wife, she would take the spot walking by his side, but for now she walked in pace with him. Her butt ached with each step. His men and the help that roamed the halls gawked at her new décor. _I’m sure vagina tassels make quite an impression. Thanks, Vegeta._

They entered the meeting hall, a huge circular room that doubled as a throne room whenever King Vegeta deemed it worthy to attend to stately matters. In a way, she felt sorry for Vegeta. He was forced to handle both state and military matters. Of course, he was also fond of taking out his stress on the girls, including her.

The seer sat in the center on a stool, an elderly woman clad in a dirty robe and with a hunched back. “Ah, if it isn’t the douche prince and his whore. Can’t say I’ve missed you these past two months.”

“Get on with it,” Vegeta barked.

“This will be the last time I see you.”

“Oh, you finally foresaw your death?”

She leaned her head back and cackled. “I saw yours, Prince of the Saiyans. Yours and that whore you’re in love with.”

“What are you babbling about, woman?”

“There’s an army coming from the north, led by a man named Frieza. He will kill all of you and take over this land.”

Vegeta laughed. “Do you know how many I’ve conquered, hag?”

“Those skirmishes are nothing compared to the war Frieza brings. You conquered a continent? Frieza has taken over most of the world!”

“And so the world will be mine when I defeat him?”

“When? Are you daft? Did you not hear me say you will be dead?”

Vegeta held his fist in the air. “We ride north tomorrow morning!”

Whatever elation she held hearing Vegeta’s impending death was marred with the realization she would die too. Vegeta rides north, he dies, Frieza continues down to the capital and kills her. The only way to save her life was to run away whenever Vegeta left.

He walked out of the room. She followed him the best she could, considering her soreness and the weird object he found on his last crusade.

“Whore!” the seer called.

Bulma turned around.

“Your decision will change fate.”

She turned around and followed Vegeta without saying another word. He stopped outside of his room. She opened the door and he walked inside. “I expect you waiting for me after dinner.”

“Just me?” she asked, hoping to alleviate her soreness by bringing another to keep him entertained.

“Are you questioning my orders?”

“Don’t you think it’s been too long since we invited another to our bed?”

He growled and slapped her. “Who are you to share me? What am I?”

The slap cut her lip. She spit out the blood. “My sun and moon.”

“Yes,” he snapped. “You will pack your things and meet me in my chamber after dinner.”

She blinked. “Pack my things?”

“You are going with me.”

The world swirled around her. She barely managed to reply “Yes, my Lord.” In her shocked stupor. _How am I going to escape now?_ She stumbled back to her quarters. Being the first, she was allowed a private room, unlike the other girls who all shared one room together.

Once inside, she pulled out the vagina tassels, collapsed on the bed, and stared upward at the gilded ceiling. _What choice did that old hag mean?_ She wrecked her mind for a moment over it, but quickly gave up. Seers worked on vague meanings. The energy would be better spent figuring out how to escape.

Supposing she left tonight, she would be immediately caught. Vegeta may not be in as great of a mood tomorrow as he was today. She could try to refuse, but that would probably go as well as her suggestion earlier. The only choice she had was to go with him.

She sat up. “That’s it.” She wasn’t a soldier. While there was a skirmish going on, she could leave in the chaos. She squealed in happiness. She may leave without vengeance for her family, but at least she could be free.

She only owned two pairs of pants and one shirt, made years ago. They were both tight on her body. Being in the castle all the time and mostly naked gave her little in the way of wardrobe. She busied herself picking out the jewelry that looked the most expensive. She couldn’t take much with her. Wearing them outside would draw attention to her.

She grabbed one of the cloths she wrapped around her body and tied it into a makeshift knapsack. It was still a little too sheer for her liking, but once they were outside she could dirty it with mud to mask the rich insides. Satisfied with her selections, she walked next door to the communal chamber with the other slave girls.

When she entered, the looks on their faces told her that they were relieved she was the one called last night and not them. She didn’t dare tell them she enjoyed it.

“Good news, ladies. He rides tomorrow.”

The collective gasped. “Are you serious? He just returned,” one said. She never bothered learning all of their names. The body of girls constantly rotated. If they failed to please Vegeta, which many of them did, they would be sequestered off to other men.

“The seer foretold this country’s demise at the hands of a man named Frieza.”

“But King Vegeta always wins.”

_But the seer always said he would win. This time is different._ She mulled for a moment over telling them that fact. _They can’t escape. Even if they did, they’d be in a worse off position than I would._ Bulma put on a smile. “He does. I have some other news. Prince Vegeta has requested I ride with him to war.”

“You’re leaving?”

Bulma nodded. “I leave tomorrow morning.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” Vegeta always acted weird around the full moon. His moodiness became worse. He became antsy. There was a strange sort of desperation that drove him mad around the full moon. Maybe the seer’s words affected him. Or maybe he wanted her there for nightly relief. Either way, once she left she would never come back. “I am going to leave behind my jewels. Take them, hide them, and use them as you may.”

“What does that mean?”

Bulma left without another word. In a world of no hope, perhaps she gave them a bit. A ring or two may not be enough to live, but it was enough to get away. From there, they could figure it out. Once back in her room, she gathered her things to go to the bath. She needed to prepare herself for Vegeta tonight.

 

Bulma ate a light meal for lunch and declined dinner. The last thing she needed was to vomit all over Vegeta. He didn’t take too kindly to that the first and only time it happened. His kick gave her a small bruise on her right breast, but from the stares she expected that her face was marred. Not even a scratch. A small scab was on her lip, but she plucked it off and looked normal. He didn’t seem to hit her as hard as he used to. _Maybe he’s getting soft in his old age._ She laughed at the thought of Vegeta ever being soft.

Once her face was made up to her satisfaction, she made her way to his quarters. Dinner started only a few moments ago. Vegeta hated to wait. It was better for her to be in his room and wait for hours than it would be to not be there when he arrived.

She curled up on his bed. Just as she was about to fall asleep, she heard the door open. She rolled off the bed and walked to greet Vegeta. She froze when she saw his face. He looked frustrated. That didn’t bode well for her unless she mitigated his mood before they started.

His gaze went up and down her body. “You kept it in.”

“I was promised a reward.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

She strut to him, taking care to exaggerate her steps so her hips danced as she walked, and twisted the tail end of the half bow around her finger. “Care to tell me what my dedication earned?” She pulled the string and his robe loosely opened, revealing a budding erection.

He pulled her close to him and lifted her legs around his midsection. He carried her, but not to the bed like she expected. She felt the smooth silk curtains brush her shoulders and the chill breeze of the evening hit her back. He set her down and shrugged off his robe.

She held her breath. The moonlight illuminated his body. She’d seen him nude countless times, but each time she marveled at his handsome features as though she’d never seen him before. _Maybe I am as sick as he is._ She met his eyes and began taking off the sheer wrap she wore. When she finished, she leaned against the balcony, showing off her curves. She watched his erection grow as he looked at her.

He walked to her, proud and powerful, and she shivered in anticipation. He brushed her hair behind her ear then kissed her deeply. She welcomed his tongue into her mouth. He put his arm around her waist and held her close to him. He ground his hips into her then growled, breaking them apart. He reached down and yanked out the jewelry then tossed it over the balcony. Before she could relish the victory of the offending item being banished from her life, he captured her lips in his with a voracious hunger.

He broke them apart, leaving her breathless. He crouched down and before she could ask what he was doing, he put his tongue inside her. She squealed as a surprising new sensation ran through her body. She wrapped her leg around his head and leaned against the balcony for balance. It didn’t take long for an orgasm to explode through her body. He caught her as her knees buckled. He let her balance herself against the balcony before standing and kissing her.

She took his erection in her hand and stroked it as they kissed. He had a desperation in his kisses, something that needed to be sated. She took his frustrations and gave him sweetness in return. She could feel him start to relax into her rhythm. When he broke them apart, she searched his face for any hint of what bothered him. He acted strange during the full moon, yes, but it couldn’t be explained fully by his actions. Since when did he care if she got off? Even as early as this morning he only cared about his own pleasure.

“Vegeta,” she whispered as their eyes met.

His brows furrowed. He put his hand over hers and felt around for her entrance. She hooked her leg around his waist and helped guide him. She met his gaze and gave a slight nod. She expected him to crash into her, but instead he slowly pushed inside. Her sore walls relaxed around him. He pressed his forehead against hers, still rocking inside achingly slow. His body trembled as he held her, as though he held back for her sake.

She kissed him, prodding him to feed his desperation into her. Something obviously bothered him, and even though they couldn’t speak to each other, she wanted to alleviate his pain with her body. Her persuasive kisses invoked the furor she desired. He picked up her leg and held her hips over him. He slammed into her, treating her body as little more than a ragdoll.

She cooed as pleasure pulsated through her. His sweaty body glistened under the silver moon. She tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him. He growled and forced them apart then spun her around, forcing her to lean over the balcony. She felt him twist her hair around his arm. He entered her and pulled her head back at the same time. As he pounded her he slapped her ass with his other hand. Her body became numb with the sensations. She could see people walking below them, some more daring men stared.

“There’s people watching,” she gasped.

“Give them a show.”

A euphoric sense of freedom came over her. She screamed his name, letting everyone below know how she loved being his toy. He pulled her up to him and grabbed her breasts, squeezing them together and pinching her nipple between his fingers. She leaned her head back and opened her mouth, letting their tongues twirl together.

He lifted her leg up and put it on the railing. The people below had a better view of his cock entering her. Their eyes upon her heightened her senses. She felt him more acutely and relished as his thick cock slid in and out.

Just as she felt the beginnings of an orgasm he pulled out and threw her to the ground. “I’m the only one who will see that face.” Using her hair as a leash, he dragged her back inside. She could barely crawl fast enough to keep up. He picked her up and threw her on the bed. She stared at him as he loomed over her. This was the Vegeta she adored. Dangerous. Proud. Someone who dominated over her completely. He pulled her to the edge of the bed and entered her. She leaned her head back and relished the tingling pleasure coursing through her body.

He grabbed the necklace around her neck and pulled her up. “I thought I told you not to wear jewelry to bed with me.” He twisted it around his hand. He pulled enough on the chain to give the sensation of restraint, but not enough to actually choke her. Of course. She did it to kill him, after all.

“You dirty whore. You liked them watching you.”

She grunted out an affirmative.

He slapped her cheek. “Whose cock do you belong to?”

She tried to say out his name, but no sound came out.

He slapped her again. “Answer me!”

“Yours,” she rasped.

He smirked. “That’s right, you nasty slut.”

She closed her eyes in bliss. She couldn’t take much more of this.

He tugged on the chain, jerking her head up. “Look at me.”

His huge biceps bulged. She watched his abs contract as he rocked his hips forward. Sweat glistened on his skin. As their gaze met, she knew she belonged to him completely. And she hated that. She despised herself for accepting the man who murdered her entire clan, who took her in as a slave, who gave her both pain and pleasure no other man could give her.

Her body throbbed. She couldn’t take much more of it, but she knew they were at a point where he had to give her permission. He tightened his hold on the necklace. The chain cut into her skin. He pulled her up so his face was a mere inch from hers.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he mocked.

She glared at him, hating him for mocking the state he put her in.

He chuckled. “I know you are. Did you think you can hide anything from me?” He shoved his tongue in her mouth. She could still taste herself on him. Memories of how magical his tongue felt inside her came back. Her body throbbed, aching for release.

When he broke the kiss apart, she wasted no breath. “Please.”

He smiled and nibbled on her lips. “Please?”

“Let me come.”

He threw her back down on the bed. “Should I?” He leaned over her and twisted her nipples. Her back arched as a shockwave of pain transformed to pleasure. He laughed.

She hated hearing him laugh at her, but she craved release. “Please.”

“Yes, beg for it. Tell me what you want.”

“Let me come, Master.”

He roped his fingers through the hair on her mound and pulled. She gasped. The intensity of the pleasure almost became painful. “Please,” she begged through gritted teeth.

“What am I?”

“My sun and moon,” she squealed.

“And what will I give you?”

“Everything,” she gasped. “Please, let me.”

He loomed over her and bit her earlobe. “Don’t leave my side.”

Her eyes widened. “Vegeta?”

“Tell me.”

“I’m yours,” she cried. “I’m yours forever.”

“Good girl.” He leaned up and grabbed her hips and began pounding her with reckless abandon. “Come on your master’s cock.”

The world went black for a moment. She screamed as her body released the pent up energy inside.

“Fucking whore,” he moaned. “Shit!”

He collapsed on her. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. That same sort of desperation she sensed in him before returned. She tangled her fingers in his hair, and attempted to take control, trying to stem his feverish kisses. She felt him grow hard again inside her. _What’s bothering you, Vegeta?_

He pulled out and lifted her up by her waist, then pushed her forward so her body was completely on the bed. She looked into his eyes. He didn’t seem to see her, as though his mind were somewhere else. She welcomed him inside her and embraced him, trying to ease his worries in the only way she knew. He crushed her body in his arms. Despite his strength, he felt weak.

The seer’s words came back to her. _Is he scared he’s going to die?_

 


	3. The Lion's Bite

 

“Wake up.”

Bulma opened her eyes and saw a stoic Vegeta staring down at her. Her chest tightened. _He got up before me. Shit!_

He nodded toward his private bath. She rolled out of the bed. The first step she took sent pain through her core. She groaned and tried to walk as best as she could to the bath, but still ended up waddling like a duck. Vegeta’s laughter filled the room. “Shut up,” she retorted, causing him to laugh harder. He took her five times before being satisfied last night. _Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll invite me to his bath._ Before last night she was already sore, but now she wasn’t sure she could handle even walking. _Please, be merciful and don’t make me travel by horse._

She started a fire in the water heater and started pumping water into the tub. Her body protested with every move. Once it was filled halfway, she added some scented oils and arranged several towels. She waddled back to the room. “The bath is drawn.”

He got off the bed. “Let us go, in that case.”

_Lucky!_ Once he entered the bath, she joined him inside and began pouring water over him. He looked every bit the warrior he was. His body was littered with scars, some large, some small, and every bulge of muscle showed in perfection. She took a bar of soap and rubbed it in a cloth until it was sudsy then began rubbing it over his back. There was a tender eroticism about cleaning him. She enjoyed gazing at his body and reading the stories his scars told her. Some leaders preferred to stay behind the lines, but not Vegeta. He was at the front with his men, probably reveling in the bloodshed he caused. She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his slick back, reaching around him to rub his chest.

The warm water eased her soreness and replaced it with arousal. She kissed his neck, lightly nibbling up to his jawline. He stood and she continued washing his body, running the towel over his tight abdomen and watching the streams of suds wash down his body. She washed his legs next, taking care to avoid his growing erection.

When she finished washing his legs, she reached for his erection. He took her wrist and stopped her from soaping it. “Use your mouth.”

His command was gentle, not harsh like it usually was. She dutifully opened her mouth and took his head in, swirling her tongue along the ridges. His precum had a light salty taste that she adored. She worked her way down his cock, licking every bit. He sighed and pulled her away, pointing at the bar of soap. “Clean yourself.”

He leaned back and began stroking his cock. She took the rag and lathered it up and began washing her arms. She worked her way down to her breasts, covering them in lather. She set the cloth aside and rubbed her nipples, pinching them and squeezing them together. She kept her gaze focused on him, watching as he stroked his long member. His panting breaths filled the small bath.

She licked her lips and took the rag in her hand again, rubbing it down her abdomen. She balanced one leg on the crest of the bath and opened her legs. With her free hand she pushed her finger inside then took it out and licked it. She lazily fingered herself, licking her fingers occasionally, enjoying the power she held over him.

She ran the cloth over her leg and pointed her toes at him.

He took them in his mouth and sucked. She pulled them away from him and lightly kicked his cheek. He half laughed and tried to move forward, but she pushed her foot against his chest, shaking her head. She traced the ridges of his abdomen and lightly ran her toes up the length of his shaft. She lowered herself back into the water and raised her legs up. She cradled his shaft between her feet and followed his hand up as he stroked himself.

She rubbed her clit with one hand and pinched her nipple with the other. His moans spurred her on. He tried to stand again, and she shook her head, pushing herself out of the water. She turned around, spread her legs apart, and leaned forward, putting her butt in the air. “Wash me.”

He took the rag next to her and ran it over her cheeks. His fingers grazed her entrance, and she cooed, but he didn’t enter her. He continued washing up her back, occasionally drifting his fingers around her to brush against her breasts. She tisked her tongue, playfully chiding him, guiding him back to his task. He washed off the suds and she stood and faced him, teasing him with a smile. She put her hand around his erection and stepped out of the bath.

He followed her out and waited as she arranged towels on the floor. She laid down and opened her legs, gesturing him to come close.

He dropped to his knees and gently pushed inside. She hissed as he entered. In her arousal she forgot about being sore. He took her slowly, gently rocking his hips. She hated how she felt like a true lover, not a slave. When they played their games the line was clear. But now, with the gentle caresses and tender kisses, she didn’t know where she stood. Were they true lovers? Did she really want to kill him? Or did she force herself to hate him?

He interrupted her thoughts with a kiss. She allowed herself to let go and enjoy the sweet love he gave her. Her orgasm wasn’t an explosive burst, but rather a slow buildup that left her breathless. He pressed his forehead against hers, panting. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Come inside me, my prince.”

He groaned and his body trembled. She could tell he wanted to go faster, but he withheld himself. She kissed him with tenderness, easing him back into the same sweetness in which she came. “Bulma,” he moaned as he came.

Her body froze in shock. He never called her by her name. She wasn’t sure if he even knew her name. She barely felt the kisses he gave her in the aftershocks of his orgasm. He kissed her cheek and pulled out, standing over her.

“Clean it.”

If she could do anything in shock, it was follow commands. She sat up and took it in her hands, gently licking up the shaft until every inch of was cleaned.

Once she was done, he patted her head. “Go change and meet me back here.”

The next moments were a blur. She could hear him saying her name over and over in her head, driving her into a rhythm of madness. She walked down the hallways naked to her room. She squeezed into the pants she never wore and put on the thin shirt that barely covered her breasts. She grabbed the makeshift satchel of her jewelry and walked back to his room. He had his armor on, and gone was the kindness she knew that morning, replaced with the cruel gaze of one about to go to war.

He eyed her attire with a skeptical eye. “How old are those?”

She shrugged.

He sighed. “Those will only serve to ruin my men. Get over here.” He took her to his closet and took one of his robes out. It dwarfed over her tiny frame, but he continued tying it around her. “Wear that for now. I will get you some robes before you leave.”

On him, the robes were a powerful reminder of his strength. On her, it looked more like a dress than anything else. It hid most of her figure, something she wasn’t used to seeing. She hoped whatever robes he chose were more form fitting. She wanted to show off her body. It was the small bit of control she could have in this place.

“You’re going to travel in my private carriage,” he said as they made their way to the back of the palace. “I usually travel on horse with my men. You will be alone.”

His words brought relief to her, both hearing that she would be alone during the day and that she didn’t have to ride a horse. They came to the exit and the carriage was waiting in front of them. He opened the door and she climbed in without a word.

When the door locked behind her, she situated herself and went to sleep.

 

She woke when a particularly bad pot hole jolted her out of position. She moaned and rubbed her sore neck. She looked out the window and saw the forest that lied outside the castle. She leaned against the window and watched the scenery pass by. Despite her years trapped in the palace, everything looked the same. _Fifteen years, huh?_

* * *

 

_Bulma sat next to the table on the dirt ground. They tossed scraps down to her for her meal, but she had no appetite. All she could do was stare at the men who took her captive, laughing and celebrating her clan’s demise. She was powerless for now. But in the future, if they let her live, she’d kill them both. Starting with that spiky haired man who took her._

_Nappa licked his lips. “Let me have a go with her, Prince Vegeta.”_

_Vegeta glared. “She’s a child. Go have fun with those other girls. Listen to the commotion out there. I bet there’s a group going at it right now.”_

_“No, she looks like she’ll be more fun.”_

_“This is my slave and if you so much as lay a finger on her I’m going to slit your throat.”_

_“If you want her first, fine. I’ll take seconds.”_

_Vegeta put down his drink. “I’m not a sick fuck who likes children.”_

_Nappa scoffed. “Then why keep her?”_

_Vegeta glanced down at her. “Beauty like that is rare.”_

_“You’re full of shit,” Nappa replied and took a huge bite out of his turkey leg. He chewed with his mouth open. Bulma wanted to gag, but she knew better than to make a peep in front of these people._

_“A pet, Nappa. If she loses her beauty like the other mongrels she can be tossed with the livestock. But for now, I’ll raise her.”_

_Nappa laughed. “You, raise something?”_

_Vegeta chugged the last of his drink and threw the mug down to her. “Fetch, mongrel.”_

* * *

 

_Bulma huddled into the thin scraps of cloth given to her as a blanket. Vegeta put her in a barn after they ate, saying animals belonged with animals. She arranged the hay in a makeshift bed and struggled to sleep._

_The doors creaked open. The animals stirred. “Where are you, little girl?”_

_Her blood ran cold. It was the voice of the man with Vegeta, Nappa. She crawled to a dark corner and held her breath._

_“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”_

_She closed her eyes and tried to make herself as small as possible. She heard his footsteps coming closer. Tears welled in her eyes._

_“There you are.” He grabbed her arms and pulled them off her face. “Vegeta may not appreciate you, but I do. And you’re not going to say anything, are you? You’re going to be quiet. Otherwise I’ll force you to be quiet.” He lifted her up. She squirmed and kicked her feet. “I should have known Vegeta liked the feisty ones.”_

_He whipped her body to the side, banging it against the wall. She coughed and sucked in air._

_“You’re going to be quiet.” He put her down on the ground. She kicked her foot up and nailed him in the nose. His bones crunched. He growled in pain and dropped to his knees. She screamed Vegeta’s name over and over._

_He slapped her. “You little wench! I’m going to kill you!”_

_She screamed again. His fist hit her stomach. She coughed as the world flickered between black and white._

_“What are you doing here, Nappa?”_

_Her heart jumped hearing Vegeta’s voice._

_“Vegeta. Just checking up on her.”_

_He looked at her then back at Nappa. His brows furrowed. He walked over to Nappa and punched his stomach. When he doubled over, he grabbed his head and slit his throat in a clean movement. Blood rained on her body. Nappa’s gurgled cries filled the small barn, agitating the animals._

_He threw his body on the ground. “And you.” Vegeta grabbed her chin and pointed her face to Nappa’s dead body. “Do you see that? He was one of my best warriors.” He turned her face to look at him. “You better be worth more than that.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the shack. “You’re going to sleep on the floor beside my bed. If you make one sound I’ll punish you too.”_

Even now, Bulma couldn’t decide if that was a good deed Vegeta did for her. But it did give her enough sense to follow his orders without protest for several years. Once she entered her teen years she became more discontent. Then they discovered another outlet for those outbursts.

It was a short history to think about. She went from being his human dog to being his human toy. If she played her cards right, a new chapter of history would start soon. She may be able to escape before a battle. Vegeta had an army to run, after all, and that left her plenty of time to be alone. She watched the scenery out of the window. As soon as they stopped, she would make her break.

* * *

 

Bulma ran through the woods. Getting out was easy enough. She told the guards she had to go to the bathroom and they left her to go on the edge of the woods. So long as she went in a ways and ran left along the road they walked, she could end up somewhere near civilization. Or at the very least, run into a merchant caravan that would give her a ride in exchange for goods.

She ran until her lungs burned and her legs turned to mush. She leaned against a tree and caught her breath. Surely that gave her enough of a head start that no one would find her. She took slower steps and began getting a sense of her surroundings. She ran up about a minute, and then only to the left. So, if she went down then she would surely come back to the edge.

With each step she took, the lighter she felt. _This is what freedom feels like._ She grinned and began skipping. A twig snapped behind her. She stopped and listened. She heard the crunch of steady footsteps. Her heart stopped. She started running. The steps were fast behind her.

Something grabbed her arm and pulled, crushing her in its arms. She didn’t need to look to know who it was. She knew this embrace very well. “Vegeta.”

“There you are.”

“My Lord,” she whispered.

“Were you trying to run away? After I graciously let you accompany me?”

Bulma swallowed. “N-no, of course not. I simply got lost in the woods.”

“Did you? And what were you doing in the woods in the first place?”

Her body trembled. The ire in Vegeta’s eyes was something she hadn’t seen in years. “I wanted to go to the bathroom, but your men were nearby.” She took a shaky breath. “I was scared they would take me while you were away.” That seemed to calm him a bit. If she was lucky, she could direct his anger to another outlet. She put her arms around his neck. “You are my sun and moon. I promised not to leave you.”

He reached at his hip then grabbed her arms, pushing her back to a tree. He took rope and bound her by her wrists to the tree. He caressed her cheek and sighed. “You’re forcing me to do this.” He pulled down her pants. “I can’t let this go unpunished.” He drew the riding crop at his side. “Turn around.”

She closed her eyes and followed his orders. He pushed her braided hair over her shoulder. She felt his leathered hand rub her butt then the harsh sting of the wooden crop against her skin. She muffled a cry. He kissed the back of her neck. “Good girl. Don’t be too loud in this place.”

She gasped as the crop smacked her again.

His hand rubbed the sore spots, sending a cooling tingle through her body. “I know you’re lying,” he whispered. The crack of his crop made her cry out as fire-hot pain whipped through her body. “Where were you trying to escape to?” The crop hit her again. She pressed her forehead against the bark of the tree, taking short breaths to try and breathe through the pain. He kissed her shoulder blades and rubbed the places he hit her. “Tell me, and I may be merciful.”

“I hate you,” she replied. “I wanted to get as far away from you as I could.”

He laughed. “You say you hate me, but you love this, don’t you?” The crop made a snapping noise as it hit her skin. She sucked in a breath. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, does it? You like it.” She felt the crop poke around her lips and he pushed a bit of it inside her. He pulled it out and put it in front of her lips. “Lick it.”

She pursed her lips tight. He smiled and spanked her.

“Mmph!”

“What was that?” he mocked. “Tell me again.”

The crop hit her skin, sending a sharp stab of pleasure through her. She couldn’t stop the moan from leaving her mouth.

He kissed along the back of her neck and cupped her breasts in his hands. “Why are you the only one that likes this?” he whispered in her ear.

The deep rumble of his voice sent shivers through her. She felt his erection press against her as he squeezed her breasts. “You made me,” she gasped. “As twisted as you.”

He chuckled and nibbled on her earlobe. “As twisted as me?” The crop slapped against her. She gasped out a moan. “Are you calling your prince twisted?” The crop hit her harder this time, mixing pain with pleasure. She whimpered. He forced her to turn around and face him. He slid the crop down the valley of her breasts to her mound. “You, my slave, have the nerve to call me twisted?”

She knew what he would do if she told him the truth. She did it anyway. “Yes,” she replied, staring him straight in the eye. He slapped the crop across her mound. She cried out as sharp pain went through her then eased away to an aching pleasure.

The soft leather of his gloves slid between her lips, rubbing her sensitive clit. “What makes you think you can leave me?” She closed her eyes and enjoyed the tingling sensations his hand brought. “Do you think any normal man will want you?”

The sensations flowing through her made it hard to speak. “E-every man desires me.”

He smiled. “But will they do this to you?” The crop slapped against her sensitive lower lips. Her voice sounded like something between a moan and cry of pain. She could see his erection straining against his pants with a dark spot at its head.

“They won’t,” she whispered.

“Why leave, in that case?”

She took a shaky breath. “Freedom.”

“Freedom,” he mocked.

The crop slapped against her lips. She cried out and hung her head low. Her legs trembled.

“What is freedom? I give you everything you could ever dream of.”

The crop rubbed against her clit. She struggled to remain standing. The ropes dug into her wrists.

His gloves soothed her aching mound as he rubbed her. His lips trailed kisses down her breastbone to her breasts. “Are you going to run away again?”

“Yes.”

He slapped the crop across her swollen clit. The sensation made her dizzy. She lost her balance and started to fall down, yanking the ropes around her wrist. She yelped in fear. He caught her around her waist and held her as she regained composure.

She knew he didn’t have to do that. He could have let her fall and injure her wrists. But when they played their games like this, he always seemed to know the moment she hit her limit and he stopped. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, enjoying his earthen scent. He stroked her hair. When she felt strong again, she kissed his neck, prodding him to continue. He held her at arm’s distance, letting her steady herself, before letting her go.

He unhooked his belt and pulled down his pants. His erection bounced in front of her, head glistening with his precum. “You want this, don’t you?”

Her cunt ached for relief. But she couldn’t give into him. He wanted to hear that she wanted him. “No.”

He smiled. “You don’t?” He picked up her leg and she hooked it around his waist. He rubbed himself at her entrance. “Your body says something else.”

Despite the throbbing ache between her legs, she continued to defy him. “I don’t.”

“No?” he questioned, lightly nipping her lips.

“No,” she replied in a half breath.

“No?” he repeated, pushing his head inside. She shook her head. He smiled and pushed in a little more. “No?”

Having him inside brought relief but she continued to defy him. Giving into the pleasure he brought her only undermined her attempted escape. He asked her again, slipping more of himself inside, smiling as she told him no, as if he could see that her protests were out of stubbornness and sensed her fulfillment of having him inside.

When their bodies touched, he cupped her chin and asked, “And if I make you queen, would you still run?”

“Yes,” she replied firmly.

He pulled out and slammed into her, seeming to vent his anger at her reply through their coupling. The tender skin that was hit by the crop came alive again, amplifying each stroke. She struggled to hold her moans inside.

He slapped her. “You ungrateful bitch.” He grabbed her breasts and squeezed.

The leather on her nipples sent shivers of pleasure through her. She panted through his ministrations.

“Will you run away again?”

“Yes,” she cooed.

He growled and put his hand around her neck. “You are mine.”

“No,” she gasped. He tightened his grip around her neck. A fierce orgasm took her. She squealed. He released her neck and took her harder, not letting her die down from her high. The euphoria killed any sort of sanity upon her lips. In that moment she was irrevocably his and she relished each second.

“You are mine,” he hissed.

“God, yes, Vegeta! Yes!”

He slapped her. “Lying whore.”

“I am yours,” she cried.

He pulled out and turned her body around. He rubbed her sore cheeks and kissed her shoulder blades. He entered her again and pulled out, just barely keeping himself in at the tip. “Show me,” he commanded. “Show your prince how much you want him.”

She rocked her hips over him, smoothly taking him all in, enjoying the delicious way he stretched and filled her.

He slapped her cheek. “Lying wench.”

She sped up, bouncing her ass over his cock. “Keep doing that,” he moaned. She pulled him out to the tip and swirled her hips around before lowering herself. His panting breaths seemed to echo in the empty forest. She could feel him becoming harder and knew he was close. Shit,” he gasped, grabbing her hips and dictating his own pace.

He roared as he came, sending a shiver of satisfaction through her. He leaned over her, breathing heavily, lazily trailing his lips along the back of her neck. After his breathing returned to normal, he released her and turned her around.

He put one arm around her waist and untied the ropes from her wrists. Her arms fell down naturally over his shoulders. He lifted her up and carried her to a small boulder and sat, cradling her in his lap. She hated the feeling of contentment running through her body. She despised how natural it felt in his arms, how much she enjoyed their couplings, how twisted she’d became to fully enjoy the sex of an angry prince. She tried to remind herself of all the horrible things he’d done in his life, tried to recall the fear and hatred she had of him, but it all died as he stroked her hair and kissed her forehead.

“I was serious.”

She glanced up at him. He stared into her eyes. “I want you to be my queen.”

Her heart stopped. “I’m a slave,” she whispered. “I could never be queen.”

“I am a prince, soon to be king. I can make you whatever I want.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I am a slave, and I want freedom. I want to be away from you. I hate you.”

He kissed her with the tenderness awarded to a lover. “I know.”

_Then why are you telling me this?_

He said nothing further and continued to hold her. After a long moment he stood and gently put her to her feet, helping her stand. He held out his hand. “Take it. You’re going to trip.”

She knew what taking his hand meant. She knew her defiance became part of their elaborate game, nothing serious, a simple thing she did to amplify their mutual pleasure. When his fingers wrapped around hers she felt a sense of calm within her tumultuous emotions.


	4. The Canary's Plumage

The next morning, Vegeta met Bulma inside her carriage as they prepared to travel again. "I'll be riding ahead with my men today." He pulled out a dagger from his side scabbard. "For attackers," he explained, though his tone of voice told Bulma he didn't believe her lie from yesterday for a second. She took it from him and gingerly held it.

He glanced at the blade in her hands, then back up at her. With a sigh, he unhooked the rope from his belt.

"Vegeta?"

"Hold your feet together."

She did as she was told. He wound the rope around her ankles and feet, binding them together like a mermaid. When he finished, he turned around and started to leave.

"Not my arms?" she asked.

He turned around and smiled. "You can cut them off or you can unbind the knots." With a wink, he shut the carriage door.

Bulma sank into the chair and crossed her arms. That was another dare of his. Take off the ropes and get a punishment when they settled for the night or leave them on and get a punishment masquerading as a reward. Her feet already ached and she hadn't been bound for ten minutes.

"Unfortunately for him, I'm not as stupid as I look." She smiled and reached down and started unraveling the rope, paying close attention to the type of knots he used. Taking things apart and putting them back together came naturally to her. She set aside the rope and stretched her legs. Whenever the sun started to set she should tie herself back up.

_Now what can I do today?_ She sighed. At least at the castle she had things to do. Here all she could do was look out the window.

Goku knocked on her window. She smiled and unlatched the window hinge, swinging it open. "Morning."

"Hey, Bulma. How are you liking it?"

"It's boring," she admitted. "I'm tired of being here."

"I heard you tried to run away yesterday."

"News travels fast."

"Not really. I'm on guard duty today because of it."

She frowned. "Really? He's putting his second in command on guard duty?"

He shrugged. "Are you going to try and run away again?"

She knew where this was heading. "I won't run away today, so you can go ahead and get back to your men."

He smiled. "Thanks, Bulma."

"No problem." She closed the door with a heavy sigh. Any other person she would have lied to, but Goku had his moments of genuine kindness. If she ran away under his watch there was no telling what Vegeta would do to him. _What's another day after fifteen years, anyway?_

The minutes that ticked by felt like an eternity. _I need to find something to do. Why did I tell Goku to go away?_ Of the current positions in Vegeta's army, she could do none of them. She wasn't a soldier, the soldiers cooked for themselves, she knew nothing of bladecraft or armorcraft, and she knew nothing about healing people, outside of what she did the for the other girls after an Vegeta session. Superficial stitching, basic first aid, nothing like the gaping wounds the soldiers earned in battle. She stroked her chin. _Maybe I can ask to be a part of the medic team. It'd be a great skill to have once I get out of here._

She opened the window and called out to the men riding beside her. "I need to speak with Goku."

The look on their face told her they were annoyed at having to obey a slave, but nonetheless one turned back and rode away. Goku returned with him a moment later.

"Something wrong?" he greeted.

"I want to see the medics."

He frowned. "Are you hurt?"

"No. I want to be their apprentice."

"Have you asked Vegeta?"

_Of course I haven't. But I know what he'll say._ "He agreed. Says I'll be less of a burden that way."

Goku stroked his chin, clearly unsure of whether to believe her lie.

She continued, "It's only logical. Otherwise I'm a waste of resources."

"That sounds like Vegeta, but…" He lifted the reins on his horse. "I'll be back."

Before she could stop him, he rode off. _Great, there's another punishment added to my list._ She leaned back into the seat and tapped her fingertips against her knee.

After a moment, Goku knocked on her window. "He said you'd be less of a burden," he said, obviously surprised. "I thought you made that up."

_I did. But you don't know Vegeta like I do._

He gestured to the driver and the carriage slowed to a halt. She retied the thick belt of her robe, securing the dagger, and climbed out.

"Are you okay to walk?" he asked.

She nodded.

He trotted along and she followed beside him. "Why a medic?"

"If I'm stuck in that carriage for hours every day I'll go mad."

"A lot of men would kill to be in that carriage instead of walking."

"Then they'll be the first to die in battle."

He laughed. "All armies need a front line."

"Isn't that where Vegeta is?"

"Vegeta is blessed by the gods of war. He won't die in battle." He winked. "And neither will I, for that matter."

"It seems the Saiyans are made for warring," she responded dryly.

Goku smiled. "Our destiny is to name this land as ours. The gods created us as such. It is why the lesser clans fall to us easily."

She cringed at his last line. He seemed to have forgotten that she was included as one of those lesser clans that fell to their warmongering many years ago. "Then you are not scared of Frieza?"

He shook his head. "On the contrary. I'm excited."

His words sent a thunderbolt of shock through her. _Have I got it all wrong? Vegeta isn't scared of death, he's excited at the prospect of conquering it?_

"Though, I will say, if I get a scratch or two better you to treat it."

She scoffed out a laugh.

He pointed ahead to a group of men clad in navy robes. "Those are the medic's blues. The one in front, Kami, is the one we will be speaking to shortly."

Kami seemed like he lived through a hundred years of wars. His skin had the texture of tanned leather and deep wrinkles that resembled striations upon the sand. He hunched over his horse, trotting along slowly.

"He still is out on the battlefield?" she thought aloud.

"Kami has been around the longest of all of us. He knows a great many things, and he's saved a great many lives. You should be honored to be apprenticed to him."

She nodded and kept her mind blank and her mouth shut until they met Kami's squad. Goku pulled his horse at pace with Kami. "This is Bulma, the First. Prince Vegeta has ordered her to be an apprentice under your care."

Kami glanced down at her, but she couldn't read the expression on his face. "Very well," he replied. "If Prince Vegeta decrees it, I cannot object. Can you sew?"

She nodded. "I can."

He raised his brows. "The first whore I've met who knew a homemaking task."

She swallowed the anger bubbling inside. It was true; to all of the army, no, all of the kingdom, she was the whore at Vegeta's side. "I think you'll find I know a great many things."

He smiled, a large grin, with only a few teeth left. He turned his head to the side. "Popo!"

A tan horse strolled up beside him. A short and husky man rode on it, skin dark as the night sky. "How many I be of service?"

"Give this girl the first test and the anatomy scrolls."

Popo glanced down at her and stared at her with an emotionless expression. "Of course."

Goku cleared his throat. "Well, looks like things are going well. Be sure to let her back to her carriage by nightfall. She needs to be ready for Vegeta when it's time."

"Of course. Follow Popo, girl, and make haste."

She jogged back after Popo, who strutted next to a large open wagon. The wagoner stopped the wagon. "Get on," Popo ordered. She climbed on and the wagon began moving again. "In the trunk on the right are the anatomy scrolls. We'll expect you to memorize each and every one of them before you're ever going to touch one of the men. As for your first trial, give me a moment." He snapped the reins and galloped off.

She opened the trunk and found many illustrations of the male body, complete with labels. While she knew the exterior rather intimately, the sketches of the interior body proved fascinating. The drawings were drawn on very thin paper, almost transparent. She lifted up the stack to the sun. The layers became one complete picture. The veins, the muscles, the organs, the bones, all a part, but all belonging together.

"Girl," Popo greeted.

She put down the sheets. He held a bunny up by its ears.

"This is the first test." He took a knife from his belt and sliced it across the belly of the animal. It screamed out in pain. He tossed it in front of her.

"What are you doing?" she screamed.

"The cut is superficial. If you stop the bleeding and stitch him back together, he won't bleed to death."

Her hands trembled as she threw things out of the trunk, searching for a needle and thread. A small pool of blood gathered around her feet.

"Stop the bleeding," Popo said dryly.

Her breaths came rapid and short. The world started to spin around her. _Think, Bulma! When the girls bleed, the first thing you do is bind them._ She pulled off the belt tying her robe and tied it around the animal then applied pressure.

"Here," Popo said, handing her a small pouch with needle and thread. She threaded the needle and looked back down at the rabbit. _It's just like sewing clothes. Just stitch the two parts together._

She untied the belt. The blood slowed to an ooze. She wiped the blood off the fur and saw the pink flesh peeking through the cut. With trembling hands, she stuck the needle through the first piece of skin. The rabbit screamed. She swallowed and held it down with one hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She passed the needle through again, trying to ignore the screams. Its thrashing movements made stitching difficult. She worked fast, hoping that the speed would lessen its struggle. When she finished, she held the animal to her breast. Its tiny body shook against her. She ran her hand over its head. "It's okay. It's okay."

Popo cleared his throat. He held out his hand. She gave the rabbit to him. He ran his finger over the stitching. "He's still breathing. Not bad. The chefs will be pleased."

She stared at him. "You're going to kill him?"

"This rabbit was for dinner. He was always going to die. That's why we used him as a test."

"No! Give him back!"

"We train new people using the animals we eat. You passed the first test. You didn't panic and let it die." He reached into the pouch at his side and pulled out a book. "Read this. Memorize it. We will see you again in a week." He turned and walked back to his horse.

As she walked back to her carriage, the soldiers stared. She looked insane, no doubt. Her robe billowed open, exposing her bloodstained body. _I can't handle it_. That was just a rabbit. What if it was a soldier? What if she couldn't save him in time and he died?

But at the same time, she remembered the relief and elation in her heart the moment she put the rabbit to her chest. Even though the rabbit was food, she managed to save it at that moment. She had the power to help it. _I spent my entire life thinking of how to end life. Of course I'm going to falter trying to save it._

"Bulma," Goku said, bringing his horse next to her. "Why didn't you wait for me to pick you back up? If you left Vegeta would put a knife through my heart."

"Sorry."

He sighed. "Are you okay?"

She smiled. "I'm okay now. I would like to wash myself before returning to the carriage."

"Of course."

* * *

Vegeta opened the door.

"Rather late, isn't it?" Bulma greeted. "It will be dusk soon."

"And you are still awake?"

She shrugged. "Nights are where I belong."

He smiled and sat next to her. "You remained bound the entire time?"

"You know the answer to that question."

"I do." He lifted up her legs and inspected the knots. "It seems you have another skill I'm unaware of." He began unraveling the binds. "A medic now, I hear?"

"You can't keep me locked in here day and night. I may as well be of use to your crusade."

He chuckled. "I don't disapprove of the apprenticeship." He reached over and cupped her chin. "I disapprove of the methods you went about securing this apprenticeship. Did you not learn your place yesterday? Are you trying to force me to punish you?"

A spark of desire lit in her upon hearing the word _punish_. She glared back at him and called his bluff. "And if I am?" He smiled a reply and tightened his grip. It stung a bit, but she refused to back down. "You asked me to be your queen yesterday," she continued. "Should a queen not be able to make decisions for herself?"

"As I recall, you would rather chase after that freedom you fantasize about."

"Maybe it's a better idea to become queen." She drew the dagger at her side and pushed him back, pointing it at his heart. "Once my title is secure, I can stage a coup."

He glanced down at the dagger and back at her. "Do you know why I brought you along?"

"Does that matter with a dagger at your heart?"

"Doubt."

"Doubt?" she echoed.

"When I look in your eyes, I see conviction. Even after being with me for most of your life, you've never once lost that hatred for me. You have a strength of conviction. When I see you, I lose my doubts."

She tightened her grip around the dagger's hilt. "How many lives will I avenge at your death?"

He ran his finger along the blade of the dagger. "When you stab someone, do it with conviction." Before she could comprehend what happened, he took the dagger from her and the cold metal burned her throat. She winced as the sharp point pricked her skin.

"Conviction," he repeated, sliding the blade down the opening in her robe, between her breasts. "Now why haven't I killed you?" He pushed aside the cloth of her robe and slid the dagger over her right breast. He pressed the flat of the blade against her nipple. She hissed as the cold metal seared her sensitive flesh. He tugged at the belt around her waist, pulling it loose. The robe loosely fell around her body. "You have beautiful skin. I hate to do this." He pressed down on her belly with the tip of the knife, pricking her skin.

"When you stab someone, do it with conviction," she mocked.

His eyebrow raised for a second, but he said nothing in reply. The knife slid down to her legs. "Open them," he commanded, tapping her thigh.

She opened her legs. He slid the dagger down her inner thigh, down to her knee, leaving a trail of tingling pleasure in its wake. As he slid it up, he pricked a spot mid-thigh. She couldn't stop the heavy gasp from leaving her. Unlike any coupling with him before, the pleasure wasn't from the pain itself, but the anticipation. If she said something that angered him, he could kill her easily. The danger heightened her senses.

"Any other woman would be crying right now. Begging me to spare their life. But not you."

The dagger hovered over her mound. She took in a sharp breath as he pressed the flat of the blade against her clit. The cold metal both burned and soothed all at once.

"Are you scared?" he asked, running the tip of the blade up to her breasts.

"No," she breathed.

"Why?"

"If you wanted to kill me you would have done it the moment you took the knife away from me."

He laughed. "You're right."

As he ran the blade over her body, that distinct ache formed inside. If she moved so much as a nudge, the knife could cut her. She kept her body still, breathing raggedly, struggling to contain the excitement coursing through her. Even without ropes, he found a way to bind her.

The blade rested over her heart. He rubbed his fingers at her entrance and pushed inside. She held her breath and closed her eyes. His thick fingers were methodical in pleasuring her. She could feel the heat from his gaze. He knew as well as she did that that blade was meant to kill, not act in ceremony. The ease in which the blade danced over her body owed to their years together, the pinpoint way they knew how each acted in pleasure.

He pressed the tip of the blade against her clit. She gasped out a moan. He alternated the pressure of the blade against her clit. Fire-hot pleasure rushed to her core. She whimpered.

"Don't move," he warned.

That deep rumble of his voice sent shivers through her. She looked up to him and met his gaze. The cool blade slid up her body. At her waist, he tapped it against her skin, inching her to his lap. He inched the blade to her throat. Her short panting breaths were the only sound between them. He teased his fingertips at her entrance then wiped them on the blade. "Lick it off," he commanded.

She ran her tongue over the metal. She could barely taste herself on his blade, but enjoyed the sensation of the slick metal against her tongue. He slid his fingers inside her. She gasped and he pressed the flat of the blade against her lips. "Be quiet," he ordered.

His thick fingers slid in and out of her slowly. Her muffled moans tickled her lips. He nipped her ear. "I said to be quiet."

The deep rumblings of his voice sent a lovely shudder through her. He pulled his fingers out and took the blade off her mouth, substituting his fingers. She eagerly sucked his fingers. He grabbed her hips and lifted her up, then sat her down on him.

"Rock your hips."

She rolled her hips over him. He reached around and started rubbed her clit.

"Ah," she gasped.

He growled and pressed the blade against her throat. "I said to be quiet."

"Forgive me," she whispered.

"I didn't say to stop."

She rocked her hips over him, struggling to keep her upper body still. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, making each minute movement a hurricane of sensations. He continued to rub her clit and it made her dizzy. The cold blade against her throat, the hot cock inside her, the threat of being killed, mixed into a surreal high. Even he seemed to be enjoying it. He felt different than usual.

His lips tickled her ear as he spoke. "You're obeying me for once."

"You have a blade at my neck." Her voice came out husky and heavy with her lust. He chuckled and nibbled on her earlobe. Tingling sensations washed down her spine, making her whimper in pleasurable agony.

"Quiet," he ordered with a chiding tone, yet the tip of the blade sank into the tender skin of her shoulder.

She grunted as the shocking pain coursed through her.

He let the tiny trickle of blood run along the silver. It was just enough blood to dye the edge crimson. He pressed the blade against her breasts as he grabbed the flesh of her hip and instructed her to ride. Each upward motion was marred with the pressure of the knife, an ever present reminder that he had no qualms about pricking her tender flesh. The moment their bodies joined tension burst into a delicious pleasure. She put a hand over her mouth to keep from making a noise. She hovered at the edge of sanity and delirium. She held onto his arms, digging her nails into his firm flesh.

"Vegeta," she pleaded, not caring if her outburst earned her a punishment.

"No," he groaned. "Keep going."

His other hand began rubbing her clit. She hovered at the edge of sanity. "Please, Vegeta!"

The knife pricked the swell of her breast. A mixture of nausea, pain, pleasure, and numbness swirled through her all at once, one after the other. "I can't," she rasped.

"You will."

Something broke inside her. She felt hot tears running down her cheeks. It wasn't from sadness or frustration, rather, an expression of the intense emotions coursing through her all at once. He didn't tell her not to cry. Instead he kissed her cheek. She stared at him through a watery haze. She kept her mouth shut and obeyed his order to keep quiet.

"Now," he ordered.

She came. Her cries were a mix of a throaty howl and a sob. Euphoria blinded her to the world around them. Like a firework, the sensations burst in a fabulous flame and crackled to smoke. She came down from her high, cheeks cold from the remnants of her tears, serene in the strong arms of Vegeta.

Her bliss couldn't last long. She still felt the erection inside her, hot and angry, protesting her rest. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for another round.

"Turn around," he ordered.

His voice sent a delightful chill through her. Deep, husky, and throaty, all evidence of his desire and need for her. She changed her position, careful to keep him inside her. He tapped the sides of his neck with the knife. Her eyes widened. She started to object, but halted herself. She put her hands around his neck and began to bounce her hips over him. He pressed the blade against her cheek.

Something in her stopped her from choking him as she normally did. She saw his glare, that evil glare that could halt a lion in its tracks, but it failed to invoke the encompassing hatred in her heart. She didn't want to kill him. Not tonight, with tears still wet on her cheek. She couldn't cry when she killed him, even tears born from a different well of emotion.

Those sharp eyes of his seemed to read through her hesitation. A deep growl left his throat, sending a chill down her spine. He slapped her cheek with the blade. "Do it!"

The slap was meant to incense her, she knew that. But it did the opposite. She wanted to quell the anger inside him. Fresh tears fell down her cheeks. His brows twisted into obvious frustration. The cool metal at her cheek reminded her of what she had to do. She squeezed his neck. His furious scowl changed to a smile. He laughed. The sound frightened her. Not even choking him cut off the horrid sound.

"Yes!"

_Why do you like this?_

"Kill me," he growled.

_Why do you ask me to do this?_

He grabbed the knife and pressed the point under her chin. Was it real? Was it still a game? Bulma couldn't tell. She stared into his eyes. "Vegeta," she pleaded in a soft voice. "Don't."

He threw the knife to the side and pushed their bodies down to the floor of the carriage, crushing her under his weight. "Hate me," he yelled. "Hate me!"

She felt his desperation in his erratic thrusts. "Vegeta," she whispered.

"Hate me!" he cried, voice a weird mesh of his dominant growl and a weak sadness.

His voice sent a wave of sadness through her. She embraced him and said nothing, only clinging to him as he begged her to hate him over and over. His seed filled her and he collapsed onto her, still crushing her in an embrace. She found herself unable to let go of him as well.

He stared into her eyes. He cupped her chin and ran his thumb along her cheek, wiping the remnants of tears. Despite the storm of their coupling, she felt calm. Serene, in fact. Their relationship was not a traditional relationship, one of smiles and love. And that was okay. She would still leave him and run away, but she wouldn't kill him.

She leaned up and brushed her lips against his. He didn't return her kiss, and still stared down at her, face clouded with an expression she couldn't read.

He rolled off her and sat on the opposite carriage, staring out the window.

The moonlight drifted through and illuminated his body, giving it an ethereal glow. She held up her hands and stared at them. Fifteen years they lived in vengeance, eagerly anticipating when they would end that life. And yet, those hands held a bleeding rabbit and mended it. Was that all it took? Could these hands not kill anymore?

When she looked back at him, she saw him staring at her. He held out his hand. When she took it, he pulled her up to his lap. He leaned his head against the window, saying nothing.

She found no words to say to him either. The only words left were questions. Why he wanted her to kill him. What exactly did she feel the moment tears fell from her eyes and refused to stop. Why both of them seemed broken, yet neither of them could mend each other, despite being the only ones who could.

She leaned into him and listened to his heartbeat. Now, though, now she could ask the question that bothered her ever since their journey began. "Do you fear the seer's words?"

He glanced down at her and back to the window. "Do you know how many men I have?"

"Thousands?"

"Twenty-thousand nine hundred and seventy-three. And that's only counting who I brought to face Frieza. Fear leads to hesitation. Hesitation costs lives. Lives are the currency of war. War is expensive." He stroked her hair.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the soft tingles from his manipulations. Tonight she would allow herself to indulge in his kindness. She felt warmth on her lips. Her eyes snapped open, meeting a pair of dark eyes. _What's going on?_

He kissed her, lips sweet upon hers. The parting of their lips left her breathless. He stroked her hair and leaned down to kiss her again. A sweet pleasure pulsed through her as he tenderly explored her lips. The fires in her smoldered. She straddled him and tangled her hands in his silken hair. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. She felt his erection between her legs but didn't indulge the ache inside.

"Perhaps part of me does."

She sucked in a breath.

He slid inside her. Her body welcomed him back. She rocked her hips over him slowly, enjoying every inch of him sliding in and out. Their panting breaths echoed in the small chamber.

He wound her hair in his fingers and pressed her forehead against his. Their panting moans intermingled. In his eyes, she saw herself reflected. Their lips barely touched yet the electricity surging through her rivaled a lightning bolt.

"Vegeta," she gasped as an orgasm took over her senses. He captured her lips with his. She felt his warmth burst inside her. As her body trembled, he tightened his embrace. When they broke apart he pressed her head against his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat calmed her senses.

_We came at the same time._

He traced his finger along her jawline and gently pushed her head up. She stared into his eyes. There seemed to be warmth from him she hadn't seen before. The haunting depths of his dark eyes drew her to him until their lips touched.


	5. The Lion's Purr

Five weeks passed since Bulma saw Vegeta. And for that, she was thankful. Before, they only saw each other sparingly. He had no qualms about using other women in his bed in lieu of her. It was for the better. Their couplings were explosive and encompassing, something akin to a delicacy.

Seeing him every day, sharing a bed with him every day, brought up feelings that lingered underneath the foundation she built. The more time she spent with him, the gentler he became, and the more she felt like the feelings she had for him passed from hate to something else. It was easy to hate him when he wasn't there and they never spoke. It was hard to hate him when their intense couplings weathered walls and exposed their deepest fears.

Worse, days apart left her with a void of depression she struggled to keep out. Focusing on training only quelled the darkness temporarily. The only way she would ever achieve peace was to leave. Five weeks learned little in practical skills, but she caught on quickly enough, and perhaps by time they met Freiza in the north she may have learned enough to be able to secure an apprenticeship elsewhere.

Knocks on her window startled her thoughts into hiding. She opened it and greeted Goku with a smile. "Good evening."

He held up a bowl of the night's stew. She took it and set it beside her. She glanced around him, but saw no others with him. "Prince Vegeta will not be seeing you tonight," he said, reading her thoughts.

Her heart wrenched in disappointment. "Give him my regards," she replied, shutting the window without waiting for his response. She hated herself for feeling rejected, but every night Goku confirmed Vegeta's absence her heart ached. _I need to leave soon_ , she told herself, yet the void suffocated any inkling of desire to leave. She was stuck in a glorious conundrum of her own choosing.

She ate the soup in silence and quickly fell asleep. The fatigue of studying from sunrise to sunset kept her night owl tendencies at bay.

The carriage shook. Bulma groaned and looked out the window. "A town?" She gasped and opened the door to take a better look.

The lights of lanterns peppered the road ahead like fireflies. She stepped outside and half ran ahead. It wasn't a large town by any means, but it was still civilization. _Maybe I can sneak away here!_ She went back to the carriage and began going through her things, making mental notes of what she could conceivably wear and carry at all times. Too much gold on her wrists and she ended up a target for thieves. Thankfully, the leather satchel she carried her medical supplies in provided ample nooks and crannies to hide rings or earrings. She could hide bracelets and necklaces within the cotton balls and linen wraps as well.

She tucked Vegeta's dagger into the side of her belt. It would fetch a pretty penny or work in a pinch for self-defense. She crossed her legs and waited patiently for someone to call upon her. A town on a major road must have an inn, and if there was an inn, there was a bed, and where there's a bed there would be an Vegeta calling her to it.

Crisp air flowed into the cabin. "Awake?" Goku greeted.

"Yes," she replied.

"Good. Looks like we get a real bed tonight. You'll be sharing with Vegeta, of course."

She nodded. "Of course."

The inn was a ways up the road, but with each step the load in her heart grew lighter. By this time tomorrow she could be free. Just one more night with Vegeta, one last night together. She didn't need to kill him. The scenery passed in a dark blur until Goku stopped in front a door.

"This is where you're staying. Vegeta should be inside."

She nodded and opened the door. Vegeta stood at the foot of the bed, naked and visibly erect. She sucked in a breath. The door shut behind her. The edge of the bed caught her eye. Tied around the two posts were ropes. A tingling heat coursed through her body. She

He held up his hand, signaling her to move. Like a spell, she put one foot in front of the other, trudging to him. His dark eyes stared at her, arresting all her thoughts. When his rough fingertips grazed the top of her chest, she let out a breathy moan. His fingertips traced the curve of her breasts, the length of her arms, the swell of her belly. It was as though he brought feeling back into the skin he touched. She trembled as those fingers fluttered just over her most sensitive spot. He cupped her chin and ran his thumb over her lips. She kissed his thumb. He chuckled and slid the tip of his thumb through her parted lips. She ran her tongue along the edge of his flesh. He pushed his thumb completely inside her mouth and she sucked.

He always tasted of spice. Every cell in her craved his salty taste. He pulled out and slid his hand down the opening in her robe, looping his fingers through her belt and tugging it free. The dagger clanged as it hit the floor. He glanced at it, then back at her, lips curling into a smile. He picked it up and held it. She shuddered at the sight. His allure, that dangerous aura, it lit up everything inside her. Her core clenched and throbbed in anticipation. One last night of bliss. No other man could invoke this sort of feelings inside her. No other man had the power, the strength, the ferocity of Vegeta.

He nudged the robe off her shoulders. It crumpled at her feet. She could not find it in her to move. He put his warm hand around her waist and pulled her to the bed. Smooth twine wound around her ankles and calves. She obediently put her hands above her head and waited for him to tie them together. He looped the rope around the posts at the upper corners then wound it around his neck before looping it to her hands. If she tugged it, she choked him at the same time.

She swallowed. The little bit of power he gave her almost intoxicated in excitement. She rolled her hips upwards, brushing his hardness against her inner thigh. Before she could blink, he slapped her outer thigh as punishment. Her body jerked. He half laughed brushed his lips along her jawline. She clenched her inner muscles, trying to relieve the ache inside.

He teased his fingers at her entrance. "Is this what you want?" he asked, voice thick with his own lust. She whimpered. He slid the very tip of his finger inside her and rubbed a tight circle over her clit. She closed her eyes as an electric wave of pleasure coursed through her. As quickly as it started, it stopped. She whimpered and bucked her hips to him again.

The restraints on her calves tightened with her movements. The pressure was almost painful in its tightness, yet with that pain came security of safety. He ran his tongue along her nipple before biting it. She gasped and wrenched her body. He sucked her nipple, nibbling on it, using his tongue to soothe the sting of his bite. She pulled on the ropes, tightening their hold around his neck. He looked up at her with a smirk. She took his dare, moving her arms down to run her fingers through his hair. He leaned up and took a wheezing breath before pushing her arms over her head. He ran his hands down her body and pushed her breasts together before slapping them. The stings long turned to pleasurable sparks. She closed her eyes and waited for him to slap her again, for that explosion of sensation she adored.

The head of his cock pressed against her lips. She opened her mouth and he invaded without ceremony, pushing his thick shaft down her throat. Her throat ached as it stretched to accommodate him. His thick curls pressed against her nose as he forced himself inside repeatedly. Her eyes watered as her lungs burned. She pulled her arms down and gasped his hips, pushing him back. His husky moan dwindled to a rasped guttural rumble. He pulled himself out of her and she gasped for breath.

Just as she took a deep breath, he slapped it out of her. She hung her head as her body trembled from the intensity of the sensations. He pressed her breasts around his shaft and thrust himself forward to her mouth. She pressed her lips closed, glaring at him, angry for his punishment without crime, but he slapped her again, forcing her lips to part, shoving his head into her mouth. She pulled on the ropes as retaliation. He shuddered against her, lips turning upward into a maddened grin.

She let the ropes go slack. He cupped her chin and kissed her, sloppily tangling his tongue with hers. She moaned into his mouth, trying to devour him in her kiss. This would be the last time she tasted him and she needed to get her fill. Her Vegeta, who molded her into this insane love, who took her to the brink of sanity with pleasure.

He grunted and shifted his weight, laying on top of her and trying to exert his dominance. She wrapped her arms around him, running her hands over the ridges of muscles in his back and shoulders. His breaths became wheezing rasps. His smooth hardness rubbed against her clit. She tried to rock her hips into him and he bit down on her lip. She cried out, a mixture of surprise and painful pleasure.

"Please," she breathed.

He chuckled and stroked her cheek. "As you request."

His words and tone were gentle. Tears formed in her eyes. He trailed kisses down her abdomen. Her stomach knotted up as she realized where his mouth lead. He licked her slit. She cooed and arched into him. He bit her inner thigh.

"Behave," he ordered.

The ropes dug into her skin with each minute movement she made. She was stuck where she was and he knew it. He sucked on her clit and she closed her eyes, struggling to keep still. Her moans became stifled in her throat. His hot tongue slid inside, lapping at her inner folds. "Vegeta," she begged. He grunted a response. Those battle-hardened fingertips stroked her sensitive clit. "I hate you," she squealed.

His body shook as through he laughed.

It wasn't enough. She needed him inside her, relieving that ache from his teasing tongue. She tried to squeeze her legs together around his head, but the ropes restrained her. She hissed as they dug into her sensitive skin. He smirked at her, lazily rubbing her clit in circles. "What is it you want?" he asked, voice ripe with amusement.

"You," she gushed.

"Is that how you speak to your Prince?" he asked, slapping across her breasts.

She bit her bottom lip and let the pleasure subside before speaking. She took deep, heavy breaths. "You," she repeated, cooing as he bitterly punished her by pinching her nipples.

He nibbled on her earlobe, whispering with his husky voice, "You enjoy being punished, don't you?" He pressed two fingers inside her, going just slow enough to drive her mad. "Is that why you disobey me? You enjoy your punishment?"

"Yes," she gasped.

He pinched her clit. She squealed and trembled as hot electricity coursed through her. "Yes, what?" he growled.

His voice sent shivers through her. "Yes, my lord."

"Finish it," he boomed.

"My sun and moon," she replied, voice unsteady as he applied more pressure to her clit. "My only master in this world."

He caressed her cheek and smiled. "Good girl." He rubbed his cock at her entrance. She closed her eyes and prepared for the delicious pleasure of his thick shaft stretching her. As he slid in, the tension in her body gave way. He kissed her as he gently rocked his hips, letting her relish each inch of him. She provoked him with her tongue, trying to invoke wrath. She didn't need gentleness. She needed the man who would hurt her with his intensity.

He stared into her eyes, and she saw confusion reflected in them. She tugged on the ropes until she saw them dig into the skin of his neck. His eyes clouded over into a quiet rage. He grabbed her hands and held them above her head.

Sweet ecstasy crumbled the last vestige of her self-restraint. Her voice echoed in the small room, certainly letting the entire inn how she felt. Even as she came, he refused to stop, reducing her to a babbling mess. She was little more than a sack of flesh in his capable hands, not so much of a human as a vessel for him to gain his pleasure. She belonged to him completely, that would never change.

The world swirled around her. She shut her eyes and saw the vestiges of stars in the blackness. Her voice grew hoarse. He pulled her hair, hard to the point her head lifted off the bed. She put her arms around his waist. His moans became thin rasps.

His body froze for a moment before collapsing and smothering her with kisses. She felt as though he shared in her euphoric delirium in the aftermath, their fevered kisses and frenzied hands reaffirming their shared existence.

* * *

Bulma woke bathed in the golden sunlight and entangled in his arms and legs. She ran her fingers through his hair and peppered kisses upon his lips to gently rouse him awake. As he opened his eyes he pulled her closer to him, crushing her in his embrace.

It was going to hurt, leaving him. She closed her eyes and affirmed silently, _I am leaving today._ There may not be another chance. Should they meet Freiza's forces she would have greater difficulty deciding who may be friend or foe. Wars weren't good for bringing out the best in people. Self-preservation ruled the land.

His hips rocked against her, prompting her to lift her leg up, allowing him access. He slipped inside her and lazily rolled his hips against her as he kissed her neck. A contented sigh escaped her as she tangled her hand in his hair, guiding his lips to the sensitive spots on her neck.

Knowing it would be their last coupling brought a bittersweet tenderness. She relished the sensation of him inside her, the husky moans in her ear, the way his hands took command of her body and played it like a lute.

She pushed him on his back and straddled him. The sunlight bathed her body in warmth. He put his hands behind his head and stared as she rode him, lazy smile on his face. Her heart ached as she gazed upon his serene face.

There were still unanswered questions between them. Perhaps they would never be answered. She didn't plan on ever seeing him again after today, but fate had a way of intertwining people should they be written to be so.

_"Come," Vegeta ordered, patting the space on the bed next to him. A thin sheer fabric covered his lower half and she could just make out the outline of his cock. The girls spoke of him in their shared room, late at night. His abnormal length and thickness. How he enjoyed it rough, to the point it made you scream in pain and cry._

_Bulma felt his wrath before, several times. The idea of that occurring inside didn't exactly quell excitement._

_Yet, a part of her desired it, to know what a man felt like, to know what it was that drove them wild in pursuit of a woman. She felt it deep inside her core, that anticipation of what was to come tonight, and that feeling guided her steps to him, allowing her to appear confident._

_"Stop," he ordered, and she did as told. His gaze traveled over every inch of her body, burning her skin with its intensity. "Take off your robe."_

_She reached up and brushed it off her shoulders, letting it drop down to her elbows before shrugging it off._

_He smiled. "Learned that from the girls?"_ _She shook her head as a reply. He twirled his finger in a circle. "Show me yourself."_

_She turned around in a circle._

_"Slower."_

_She took small steps and took quarter turns at a time, watching him over her shoulder. The sheer cloth seemed to grow tight over his legs, emphasizing his erection. She couldn't keep her gaze off of it. Curiosity erased the fear._

_He licked his lips. "You're finally a woman I can enjoy."_

_"Thank you," she found herself whispering, though she didn't feel thankful for his words._

_"Climb on the bed."_

_She put her legs on the bed and crawled to him. As she approached, he reached out and touched her hair, long silken strings falling through his fingers. As she came near, he guided her to lay down beside him. He ran his hands over every inch of her body, taking care to massage the nerves out of her. Her body became a puddle of goo in his practiced hands._

_His gaze met hers. He didn't give her a smile, or reassure her of anything before meeting her lips for her first kiss._ So this is what kissing feels like. _His lips were warm against hers, yet an inexplicable fire burned in her chest, spreading its warmth through her body. His tongue pressed against her lips and she opened her mouth._

_The first taste of a man wasn't like anything she tasted before. He had a sort of smoky taste to him, like the pipe he smoked with the men after dinner. The tingling between her legs became stronger as their tongues intertwined._

_His hardness pressed against her leg. She wanted to touch it, but she also knew better than to do anything out of turn. He kissed her neck and she squirmed as he massaged her breasts. When his fingers pinched her nipple, she cooed. Blood rushed to her face._

_He chuckled and pinched it again. "Do you like that?" She could only manage to nod. His rough fingers applied more pressure and those cooing sounds of pleasure filled the room. Her back arched and she rocked her hips, squeezing her legs together, trying to quell the pulsating tingles lighting her body aflame._

_His gaze met hers and she saw something different inside, a sort of recognition, a certain stoicism to his expression. The pressure on her nipples grew, yet it didn't hurt, the opposite, it felt like sharp rushes of pleasure, directly wired to the center of the tingling ball in her core._

_He reached over with his other hand and began rubbing her clit. Simultaneously relief and tension took hold of her body. She trembled with the onslaught of new sensations._

_"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, but she couldn't answer coherently. The more he did things that caused pain, the better it felt._

_"More!" she managed to gasp. "Like that, more!"_

_He leaned down and took a breast in his mouth, biting down on her nipple while he twisted the other. All the tension inside burst into an inferno of tingles and heat. Everything in her manifested as a scream. He held her trembling body until it calmed down, kissing her hair._

_The cloth long slipped off his lower body. The bulk of his erection rested on her thigh and she couldn't help but stare._

_"Touch it."_

_She reached out and brushed it with the tips of her fingers. Smooth, soft, almost like the silk bedsheets they rested upon. She put her hand over it and rubbed over the length, fingers barely touching around it. A clear liquid leaked out and dripped onto the back of her hand. She lifted it up and sniffed it._

_"Lick it off."_

_She glanced at him and back at her hand, sticking her tongue out and licking it off. Surprisingly, it tasted delicious, tangy and salty with a hint of sweetness. Something in her reaction made him laugh._

_He tangled his fingers in her hair and pushed her head down. "Put it in your mouth."_

_Truthfully, he didn't have to ask. The idea of tasting more of him more than appealed to her. She took him in her mouth and swirled her tongue around. The deep rumble of his moans spurred her on. She tried to take more of him in her mouth, but it proved difficult. She gagged and tried to lift her head up, but he held it firm._

_"Keep going."_

_Her lungs burned for air. She took short breaths through her nose as she tried to push that massive thick cock down her throat. Oddly, by swallowing like she would a meal, it enabled her to take more of him in. She tried to open her jaw more, but it was already locked and sore. He pulled her up and she took a deep breath._

_He smiled and kissed her open mouth, shoving his tongue inside, taking command of her. "Good girl," he said, lightly slapping her cheek. His praise brought a warm pride to her chest. He laid her down and spread open her legs, positioning himself at her entrance. He rubbed the head of his cock along her slit and she tensed up, waiting for him to take her._

_She groaned as he inched his way inside her. They warned her it would hurt, that he would tear her apart, but it felt more like a good stretch. He took his time, going slow enough that she could feel every second that passed, the way her body adjusted to the new thing inside her._

_And yet, the fullness that he brought also felt amazing. He didn't ask if it hurt. He wouldn't, it wasn't in his nature. Yet the fact that he took his time stretching her meant somewhere, he cared, even if it was only preserving property._

_"Look at me," he growled._

_She met his gaze. He began rocking his hips into her, just enough to make her long for more._

_"How does it feel having your first cock?"_

_"I love it," she whispered._

_"I can't hear you."_

_"I love it," she repeated, breathless._

_He slapped the side of her ass. "Tell me!"_

_"I love it," she yelled._

_She had her share of beatings before, after all, she couldn't keep her mouth shut, but this time instead of hurting, it felt good. So good, she wanted to take the position over his knee and let him spank her to his heart's content._

_"Tell me what you want."_

_She nibbled her lip. Should she mention that particular thought aloud? He growled and spanked her again. She shuddered and gripped the sheets. "I want you to bend me over the knee and spank me like I've done something bad," she babbled._

_His low moan rumbled through the room. She felt him grow harder inside her. Of course, of course he would relish the opportunity to spank her._ But am I just as sick for wanting it?

_He pulled out and in a smooth movement, lifted her up and over his knee. "Is this what you want?" he taunted, spanking her ass._

_"Yes," she sighed, relishing the moment the pain of the slap turned into those cooling tingles._

_"If I had known you were this nasty I would have fucked you sooner," he cooed, rubbing her tender flesh. She clenched her internal muscles, trying to relieve the twisted knots of desire that returned. Now that his cock wasn't in her, she felt an emptiness she didn't know was there. How would it feel to be spanked as he was inside her?_

_"You're going to see me every night," he continued. "I'm going to turn you into a little cock slut, just for me."_

_"Yes," she gasped._

_His thick hand pounded her tender flesh. She cried out and squirmed under him, but he held her firm. "You will refer to me as your Prince at all times, do you understand?"_

_"Yes!" Her outburst earned another spanking, this time harder, enough to actually cause pain._

_"Yes, what?"_

_"Yes, my lord."_

_He rubbed her sore asscheeks as a reward. "Good girl," he whispered. He pulled her up and straddled her over his erection, easing her body onto it. "Do you like that?" his deep voice boomed as he licked the crest of her ear. His hand massaged her ass as he guided her hips up and down._

_"Yes, my lord."_

_It felt unnatural, yet natural at the same time to be obedient to him. The rebellious streak in her withered away to the tune of his thick cock entering her. He flipped her over and_

_He laughed. "Look at you. Last of your kind, squealing like a whore on your conqueror's cock."_

_His words were an ice bath. She stared at him with renewed hatred. She snaked her fingers around his neck and squeezed as tight as she could manage._

_His eyes widened. He grinned and sped up. She hated her body at that moment, the way it relished his speed, the way it accommodated him perfectly, the way she craved it and desired it like a forbidden fruit. He had to die today._

_His hot seed filled her. The room filled with his lion-like roar._

The first, and the last. Bulma stroked Vegeta's hair and gave him a long kiss as he held her in the aftermath of his orgasm.

The door knocked. "My lord! We need your approval for new weapons."

He groaned and rolled out of bed. The golden sunlight lit his body as though it were made of bronze. He stretched and walked to the door. "Bring me my robe." After she helped him dress, he turned around and glanced at her, saying simply, "Be back by nightfall."

* * *

The town had a quaint charm to it. There were many people spilling out of the taverns to the streets, drunk and merry. The people who lived here obviously didn't enjoy their presence but wouldn't say a word. No one dared to go against Vegeta in this land.

Their stares followed her every move. That was normal, considering no one had her hair color anymore, but she needed to find someone desperate. A man who would do as she said for a chance to sleep with her, one who was dumb enough to be with the woman Vegeta named his First.

They had a small market set up several blocks away from the inn. Nothing special, a few homemade wares and food, but it was a man who caught her eye, or rather, met her gaze as she came close.

He had a scruffy look to him. A scar stretched across his cheek and long hair gathered in a messy ponytail. He wore a flirty smile and greeted her with "Hello, beautiful."

She flashed him a huge smile and gave him doll eyes. "Those are some lovely furs."

"Good for keeping you warm during the winter. Not as good as your husband, I fancy."

"Oh, I don't have a husband," she replied, twirling her hair around her finger.

"You don't?" he asked, and she heard the desire in his tone.

She nodded. "I'm afraid I've held a sheltered life…" she trailed off and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. "I managed to escape my master and I've been wandering since."

"Your master?" he repeated. "You were a slave?"

She nodded. "I only have what I have on me right now."

"Do you need a place to stay tonight?"

She put her hands over her mouth. "That's too much to ask of a stranger."

He shook his head. "I insist. Let me warm your side tonight." He cleared his throat. "With my furs, of course."

She smiled. "You're too kind. I don't even know your name."

"Call me Yamcha."

She smiled. "I love that name. A strong name, for a strong man."

He laughed. "And yours?"

"Garter."

"Your name is as beautiful as you."

"I'm afraid you're smothering me with kindness. I can't take it all."

"I live in a cabin in the woods. It's a short walk from here. Do you want to leave now?"

"How can I repay your kindness? I'm sure the soldiers will take awe of your wares."

He shrugged. "They'll be around. I'll drop you off and come back. Not a big deal."

She helped him gather his furs and pack them into the rucksack he carried. As they walked, he made small talk and she answered with the zest of a woman enraptured. She provoked him to touch her, making certain to give him a glimpse of her body, fueling the lust she saw in his eyes.

"How long has it been since you've been with a woman?" she asked.

His ears turned red. "I dare say I have yet to take a wife, and only met with women of the night. Forgive my honesty."

She shook her head. "I find it hard to believe such a handsome man like you doesn't have women falling at his feet."

"Most don't enjoy the forest life, I'm afraid."

She ran her hand down his arms, feeling his muscles. Not as strong as Vegeta, but what man was? He was stronger than her, at least, but not so strong that she couldn't best him in a struggle so long as she used her wits.

The trail to his cabin was well-worn. If anyone saw them leave, they wouldn't have the forest for cover. _I need to get this over with as soon as possible._ After she traded his wares for a horse, she could make time. Farmland lay ahead of them. There had to be a farmer willing to trade a horse for furs. And if no one did, they surely would for gold.

His cabin was small and only had a bed, table, and stove inside. He placed his sack by the entrance and wiped the sweat off his forehead. "It's not much, but if you fancy, I can make it bigger. It's not much to build."

She put her arms around his neck and gave him a long kiss. "Let me thank you," she whispered, reaching down and rubbing her hand against his crotch. She didn't have to ask twice.

Nothing. That is all she felt as he fumbled his way through copulation. With Vegeta, everything in her responded to the lightest of touches. With him, his sloppy hands, slobbering kisses, sweaty thrusts, it lacked anything sensual. It was boring, it didn't feel nice, or rather, it didn't feel like much of all. His erratic breaths and moans filled the cabin, so apparently he enjoyed it. As odd as it seemed, the punishments proved Vegeta paid greater attention to her needs, to her limits and providing her with pleasure, even if it seemed at expense to his own at times. No matter how he ordered her, her needs were met always.

She shifted her weight to give him better access. The sooner this was over, the better. _To think, at this time, of all times, I would miss Vegeta._

The shimmer of her dagger caught the edge of her eye. She glanced at it and pretended to stretch forward like a cat, brushing her fingertips at the edge of the hilt. She arched her back and began exaggerating her supposed pleasure to near comical levels.

It did its job. He seemed to be reaching his zenith. She pulled the dagger close and flipped their bodies. She rode him, making a show of showing off her breasts, much to his obvious enjoyment. He came in a roar.

Her long fingers snaked around his neck. He trembled under her, slapping her hands. She squeezed harder. His body bucked, but she leaned forward, putting all her weight onto his neck. He continued to struggle. It would be hard to choke him to death. She grabbed the dagger at her hips and pressed it against his chest.

The doors burst open. She turned and saw men clad in armor.

"Look at that hair. That's the one."

Before she could react, Yamcha took the dagger from her hands and pushed her to the floor. A man grabbed his arm and pushed him to the ground, then in a clean motion, sliced his throat. Blood sprayed all over their bodies as they marched to her.

She stood and held up both her hands. "Those aren't Vegeta's banners," she noted with a snide smile.

"Grab her," one of the men ordered.

"Easy now," she chided as a man grabbed her wrists and began tying them together. "I assume I'm to be sent to your leader?"

"You don't need to worry about where you're going."

She nodded to the leather satchel on the table. "I'm a medic. If you take my bag I can be of use to you."

He grabbed the bag and opened it. He half growled and tossed it to one of his men. "Take that too."

"Not going to clothe me?" she asked with a mock innocence to her tone. "Surely your master won't want his prize marred."

The man punched her. She laughed through the pain. "Come on, Vegeta hits me harder than that."

"Get her out of here."

As she walked, she planted her feet firmly on the ground. The trail of blood left in her wake would be the only clue to her whereabouts.

She didn't count on Vegeta saving her to be a knight in shining armor, but she could count on him getting back his property, especially if these men were in employ of the fabled Frieza.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm so slow getting these chapters out. It's out of my comfort zone (I usually write cute/steamy stories) and it's difficult for me to write. I worry that it's not up to par. Thank you for reading and waiting. I will finish this, no matter what.


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